Friday, 20 May 2016

A Walk in Nut Wood

An opportunity to escape the current frenetic pace of my life for a brief few hours brought me to Nut Wood 

and a chance to reconnect with Nature,

including some tree hugging.

Typically on my first real free day for what seems like eternity, the weather had turned and the skies were littered with a smattering of grey clouds;

 but in the wood with the leaf clad branches tightly interwoven above us, the uninspiring sky was hidden from sight and a verdant light lit up the dappled shade of the undergrowth.

Beneath the lush green leafy canopy

 the air was full of a cacaphony of birdsong. 

At first there was a sense of peace and stillness until the realisation that all around in the foliage and high up amongst the tree tops, tiny song birds darted hither and thither, miraculously avoiding colliding in mid-flight. 

(I wondered if perhaps there is an avian form of air traffic control?)

I tried in vain to photograph them, but they were too quick and their movements so swift. 

I had all but given up when at the edge of the wood my attention was drawn to a brightly coloured chaffinch loudly singing in the tree top,

 who continued to sing as he perched, 

whilst posing quite unabashed for me.

A second chaffinch stared curiously down at me, 

his beak full of food.

We walked further into Nut Wood. 

A solitary headstone, its legend undecipherable - perhaps marking the grave of a much loved pet, peered through the grass at the foot a tree.

Frothy Cow Parsley brushed against our legs,

 the creamy white flowers like a deep lace trimming at the base of the trees.

A heady scent of hawthorn blossoms sweetly pervaded the tranquil air and

cherry blossom lay scattered on the ground like white confetti.

Bluebells carpeted the woodland floor

and velvety moss-covered logs lay half hidden 

beneath the curling fronds of ferns.


that appeared to twinkle like little stars 

were delicately sprinkled amongst the long grass,

invoking visions of flower fairies with gauzy wings 

dancing in this magical glade.

(Mr Long Suffering was visibly revolted at this observation - his manliness affronted by such fey talk!)

I refrained from pointing out to him the white feather that floated down in front of me into a patch of clover.........

The path led us out of the wood

where out of the shade of the trees 

bright yellow buttercups spattered the emerald green of the grass.

Emerging from the wood -

 a view over the lough 

to the yachts anchored at the nearby yacht club.

Swallows swooped low as they flew down 

from the roofs of ramshackle old stone buildings 

located on the periphery of the wood,

over the walled garden 

and surrounding fields. 

Walking in Nut Wood was as though being in an enchanted land; but reality prevails and although I had temporarily escaped my stresses, I could not escape forever and so it was with reluctance that I had to leave the Wood and return once more to the real world.


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